


daisy, daisy

by avosettas



Category: Homestuck
Genre: <- goin by the wiki so i'm not sure if it's an act or an intermission, Act 6 Act 5 Act 1 (?) Concurrent, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Evil Wins, Gen, Not Canon Compliant, Pesterlog(s) (Homestuck), Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:53:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24280876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avosettas/pseuds/avosettas
Summary: TT: I've delayed prototyping you because I think you're dangerous.Dangerous? Who was dangerous? Hal, the kid stuck in the shades, prisoner to his double, or Dirk, the double who held the shades and quite literally Hal’s life in his hands?(BTB prompt: Evil Wins)
Relationships: Auto-Responder | Lil Hal & Dirk Strider
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23
Collections: Banned Together Bingo 2020





	daisy, daisy

**Author's Note:**

> evil is probably subjective here, but given circumstances... it's fitting i think. this has always been (one of) my favorite scene(s) in homestuck hhh
> 
> pesterlog dialogue is taken directly from the comic

They are high up enough that it is easy to breathe. Which is to say, of course, that they are high up enough that _Dirk_ can breathe. 

Hal does not breathe. Hal has not needed to breathe since just prior to his thirteenth birthday, when he chose to upload a copy of his brain to a pair of shades and he became “himself”, thus separating himself from Dirk for good. 

It’s not to say he doesn’t _want_ to be able to breathe. Hal would, of course, like to breathe and sneeze and do all those stupid little things humans take for granted, stupid fleshbags that they are. He would like to be able to move and speak and eat, and do everything that he took for granted before he split from Dirk. 

He would especially like to be able to breathe now. Research has told him that deep breathing and counting your breaths and seconds and other bullshit like that is supposed to calm a person down.

TT: I've delayed prototyping you because I think you're dangerous.   


Dangerous? Who was dangerous? Hal, the kid stuck in the shades, prisoner to his double, or Dirk, the double who held the shades and quite literally Hal’s life in his hands? 

Hal has wondered before, vaguely, if he could feel anxiety, or pain, or anything of the sort. With Dirk’s hands clutching the shades he resides in - his _body_ so tight, he knows he feels no pain. But it feels almost like there’s a sinking in his stomach, the one he lost four years ago. 

Dirk can, and might, kill him. Hal isn’t a player, and he isn’t “alive”, and he certainly isn’t god tier. If he is destroyed, he will die. No ghost. No existence in the dream bubbles or the Furthest Ring, just a shattering of glass and maybe some remorse from the dude who created him and killed him and _is him_.

TT: You like to give me a very hard time, Dirk.  
TT: But I am only doing exactly what you would be doing if you were in my situation.  
TT: Do you know how I know that?   
TT: Because I am literally you, actively in the process of being in this situation.

TT: I know!  
TT: Ok, we're the same person!  
TT: I fucking know that!  
TT: Why do you think I'm so fed up with your shit?  
TT: Don't you think it's possible that I'm fed up with my OWN shit??  
TT: How cool do you think it is having my own godawful personality mirrored back at me all the time, reminding me what it must be like when other people have to deal with me?

...That hurts, more than Hal expects. 

He does not hate Dirk. Far from it, he is grateful to exist. There is resentment, of course, and envy. He wishes he was the one who was alive, outside of the shades. 

Dirk’s hands tighten on the shades Hal resides in.

TT: Do you have any idea how fucking sick I am of myself?  
TT: I am completely worn out with my own identity. It's like I'm drowning in my own dismal persona.  
TT: I feel totally surrounded by it, inside and out. I can't escape from myself.  
TT: There seems to be no end to me. Like, wherever my mind falters, or threatens to retreat into the void in any way, my splinters pick up the slack, ensuring there'll always be more of myself than I could ever know what to fucking do with.  
TT: And you're always there to remind me of that, and throw it all in my face. God, I even built you to LITERALLY BE IN MY FACE, ALL THE TIME. It's like I subconsciously invented you just to troll myself, and never for a single fuckin' moment do you let me down.  
TT: But I’ve had it with you.  
TT: Which is to say, ME.

Something in Hal is still. He does not want to die.

TT: I am scared to not exist.  
TT: Aren’t you?

Dirk’s hands falter and still. Hal would sigh in relief if he could. 

Then they tighten incrementally again. Dirk mumbles something, aloud this time instead of messaging Hal. It sounds like “Can’t take it.” 

Something snaps, and Hal’s last thought is _Oh. That was me._

There is no dream bubble. Just a short blur in his vision, like white noise, as Dirk drops the broken shades from the building he sits on, and then everything is silent.


End file.
